I want to write my misery. Put it down into words.
But if I do... Well, then it becomes real. I have to admit it. Confess my sins. Find the reasons. Examine myself. If I admit it, there has to be a reason.
And that reason will, inevitably, be me.
I cause myself SO much misery. So much agony.
My actions will have to be delved into. My thoughts re-lived. My transgressions aired out and contemplated.
And while this seems like it would be beneficial... Healing even... I'm afraid I can't do it. My soul is too weary. My heart beating to the rhythm of disregard. I cannot continue to go over my errors again and again. Think about them until I have them figured out. I can no longer force myself into contemplation.
Suffice to say, I'm indecisive.
Part of me longs to burn myself at the stake for my sins against myself and the other half wished to bury my own head in the sand and shut my eyes and ears to myself. For now, I'm caught in a limbo. Tired of myself with no way to escape me and choosing to turn a blind eye to me.
I just wish I could escape myself.